The red carpet stretched all the way to the entrance of the National Theater. Fans and reporters stood along both sides, all eyes fixed on her with an almost frenzied intensity, as if the whole world revolved around her alone. As she stepped onto the red carpet, the roaring crowd seemed to fuse into one singular voice, all chanting her name.
Nini was elated. In this moment, she was the biggest star—the kind of global icon whose fame and influence surpassed even Matthew Horner.
She strutted along the red carpet, but after just a few steps, something felt off. Her chest suddenly felt unusually heavy, as if an unseen force was pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe. And with each passing second, the weight increased until she could barely catch her breath.
Why? Why was this happening? It felt like she was suffocating, as if something—or someone—was trying to stop her from continuing down this path to stardom. Was it jealousy? Was someone trying to crush her dreams?
Finally, she couldn't breathe at all. Her vision blurred, and with a sudden rush, everything went dark.
When Nini slowly opened her eyes, the red carpet, the National Theater, the fans, and reporters—all of it—was gone.
Her head pounded with a familiar, splitting pain.
She had felt like this before—after a night of heavy drinking.
Nini raised her hand to rub her forehead, but her arm bumped into something. There was a dull thud, followed by the sound of something rolling across the floor with a faint "clunk." She struggled to focus her blurry vision, only to see an empty bottle rolling across the carpet toward the wall.
And there were more bottles scattered around—brandy, whiskey, Hennessy, Royal Salute, and many more she didn't recognize.
"What is this…?" she murmured, just as her head throbbed painfully again, making it hard to think clearly. The heavy feeling on her chest returned, and she quickly looked down.
It wasn't some invisible weight—it was someone's head, resting on her chest.
"Who… who is this?" Nini was confused. "Who's lying on top of me?"
The person had long, disheveled hair that obscured their face, making it impossible to see who it was.
"Mmm…" The person suddenly made a soft noise, their lips brushing against her chest, sending a ticklish sensation through her body. Nini nearly gasped aloud. As the person shifted, their hair slid to the side, revealing a delicate, beautiful face.
Nini raised herself slightly, her eyes widening in shock as she looked down at the woman lying naked on top of her.
"How could it be her?"
The woman had a shy, sweet face and a nearly perfect figure—ample breasts, a slim waist, and long legs. Any man would be captivated by her.
"Candice?" Nini muttered, recognizing the woman as Candice Swanepoel, one of the Victoria's Secret Angels she had met earlier. "How did she end up here?"
As more images from the previous night flooded her mind, Nini's headache grew worse. She winced and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. But the more she remembered, the more surreal it all seemed.
She remembered Matthew inviting her to the Victoria's Secret Angels' party. They had gone to Alessandra Ambrosio's mansion in Rio's upscale district. A group of them had opened countless bottles of alcohol. At first, they drank from glasses, but before long, they were drinking straight from the bottles.
Soon, people started getting drunk.
And then? Miranda Kerr, already tipsy, had started bragging about how great it was to be with Matthew. Someone got curious and wanted to find out just how great. From there, everything spiraled out of control.
More memories returned to Nini. She recalled how Matthew had utterly overwhelmed the Victoria's Secret Angels, leaving them groaning and defeated. Fueled by alcohol, and perhaps the wild energy of the group, Nini had joined in the madness.
Nini covered her face with her hands, groaning inwardly. What on earth did I do?
These supermodels, one after another, had thrown all sense of propriety to the wind, shedding their public personas in a drunken haze. And Nini? She had followed right along with them.
She glanced around the room, taking in the sight of the sleeping women—Candice Swanepoel sprawled on the floor, Doutzen Kroes clinging to Candice's leg, and further along, Alessandra Ambrosio and Adriana Lima, tangled together and fast asleep.
And then, she saw him.
Matthew Horner.
Though not as bulky as someone like Schwarzenegger, his muscles were solid, his body brimming with explosive power. Nini knew just how strong he was—she had experienced it firsthand.
He was surrounded by women—Miranda Kerr, Izabel Goulart, Lily Aldridge, Erin Heatherton, Isabeli Fontana—all lying about, as naked as Candice.
Nini pinched herself, trying to make sense of it all. Was this a dream? A hallucination?
But the sharp pain from her nails digging into her skin told her otherwise. This was real. Last night had really happened.
As the fog of her hangover began to lift, Nini recalled the most vivid memory: all the Victoria's Secret Angels, along with herself, lined up in the room, kneeling on the plush carpet.
Matthew Horner, like an emperor from a far-off land, had stood before them, ready to indulge in his "harem."
"I must be insane!" Nini muttered, rubbing her face. "The whole world has gone mad!"
Her movements must have disturbed Candice, because the supermodel suddenly stirred. She blinked, then rolled off Nini and onto the carpet, groggy but awake.
Candice's movement seemed to set off a chain reaction. Doutzen Kroes woke up next, followed by Alessandra Ambrosio and Adriana Lima. One by one, the women around Matthew stirred, coming back to consciousness.
Nini pulled a blanket over herself and scooted to the edge of the room, distancing herself from the group. Leaning against the couch, she watched their reactions.
Some of the Angels seemed momentarily confused, but they quickly figured out what had happened. To Nini's amazement, none of them seemed fazed. Some even stood up, casually heading to the bathroom as if last night's debauchery was perfectly normal.
And then, Matthew woke up.
He looked slightly worse for wear, clearly exhausted from the previous night's exertions.
"Hey, everyone," he greeted with a carefree smile, "good morning."
"Good morning, Matthew," some of the women replied.
Miranda Kerr and Adriana Lima even helped Matthew to his feet.
Not a single one of them blushed or looked embarrassed. It was as though everything that had happened was completely ordinary, nothing worth being ashamed of.
This is… outrageous! Nini thought. Last night's drunken chaos was one thing, but now that everyone was sober, none of them seemed to feel like they had done anything wrong.
Sure enough, these foreigners had no sense of shame. Their moral compass must have been shattered!
As the women dressed, some of the Angels even started reminiscing about the night's "battle." A few of them seemed eager to go for another round with Matthew.
But Matthew looked worn out.
Nini could tell he was fatigued, in need of some serious rest.
Since waking up, Nini had been completely silent. The world felt upside down. She had always thought her own limits were low, but these supermodels seemed to have no limits at all.
One of the Angels even made a comment about how "it would be a waste not to have fun while we're young."
The entertainment industry here is far more chaotic than back home, Nini thought. She resolved to make a name for herself quickly and get out, before she was dragged into any more parties like this.
Rationally, she knew she should refuse any future invitations to these kinds of events. But deep down, there was a nagging voice that whispered, Last night was kind of fun…
By mid-morning, Matthew's car arrived to pick him up. Nini decided to ride with him.
As they sat in the car, Nini kept glancing back at the villa.
What a wild night.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
"Back to the hotel," Matthew replied, then asked Nini, "Do you need to go somewhere else?"
Nini shook her head. "No, I need to rest."
Matthew nodded, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. He still wasn't sure how much alcohol he had consumed the night before, but he had definitely shattered his personal record—possibly doubling or tripling it.
In that kind of situation, alcohol had been the perfect stimulant. Without it, he would never have been able to handle an entire group of Victoria's Secret Angels.
He hadn't expected the night to turn out like that. It had all spiraled out of control so quickly.
Thinking back on the madness of the night, Matthew realized that one of his earliest dreams about entering Hollywood had actually come true.
But the fulfillment of that dream had come at a price. His head was spinning, his vision blurry, and his whole body ached like never before.
Then again, considering his "opponents" were some of the fittest women in the world, all of them Victoria's Secret Angels, it made sense that he was so drained.
Each Angel was formidable on her own—facing them as a group was a challenge like no other.
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